Hair
Directed by David Atkins
Lyrics by Gerome Ragni and James Rado
Music by Galt MacDermot
With Matt Hetherington, Kane Alexander, Mitchell Butal and Kelly Abbey
Capitol Theatre, Sydney, until May 8
Her Majesty's Theatre, Melbourne, from May 20.
REVIEW BY KIM BULLIMORE
In April 1968, Hair first burst onto the Broadway stage. It was controversial, irreverent, bold and tapped the politics of the day. Written by out-of-work actors Gerome Ragni and James Rado in 1967, Hair brought to the stage the political, social and cultural explosions of the 1960s, triggered by a massive movement against the US war in Vietnam.
Clive Barnes of the New York Times wrote at the time that Hair was not only "the first Broadway musical in some time to have the authentic voice of today rather than the day before yesterday", it was also "the frankest show in town".
Hair explored the brutality of the Vietnam War and the youth counter-culture of the 1960s, and it also addressed many of the social issues which were not talked about in 1960s "polite society".
It would be easy to dismiss Hair as simply a celebration of the hippie counter-culture, but this would be a mistake. In 1968, the USA, as well as many other Western countries including Australia, was in great turmoil as Washington escalated its bloody imperialist war in South-East Asia. Mass movements against the war were growing rapidly, with hundreds of thousands of people taking to the streets to demand, "Troops out now!".
Hair was a play whose time had come. While it did focus on the youth counter-culture which grew around the anti-war movement, it still delivered very stark and powerful anti-war, anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist messages.
David Atkins' enthusiastic and lively Australian revival of the play brings that exciting and important period back to life. The first half of the play deals with the phenomenon of the hippies. Set in New York's Central Park and Greenwich Village, the play is an in-your-face confrontation with the issues of drug use, racism, inter-racial relationships, sexuality, youth alienation, unwed mothers, lesbian and homosexual relationships, as well as colonialism and imperialism. While many of the issues addressed in the play are no longer as controversial or as confronting to the audience as they were 35 years ago, Hair's exploration of them still has an impact today.
The majority of the songs reflect the issues brought to the international political stage, not only by the growing anti-war movement but also the civil rights movement and the free speech campaigns of the 1960s. "Coloured Spade" catalogues a litany of racist names and stereotypes that African Americans have had to endure, while "Ain't Got No" addresses not only the poverty of black Americans, but also by the many other people dispossessed and alienated by capitalism.
The one social issue not examined in the play is sexism. The role of women in Hair, including the main female character of Sheila, a student protest leader, is clearly secondary to that of the male characters. Sheila's humiliation upon her return from a Washington anti-war demonstration reveals the lack of consciousness about women's liberation by the play's writers. This may, however, be because widespread opposition to sexism had not yet developed when Hair was penned. The second wave of feminism in the form of the women's liberation movement did not really "burst" onto the US political landscape until September 1968, when 100 women picketed the Miss America beauty pageant.
The second half of the play deals more directly with the brutality of war and imperialism. Centring on the character of Claude being drafted into the army, writers Rado and Ragni make it clear that the war is not only racist, but is merely the next chapter in a long history of imperialism which has seen the "white man" being pitted against the "red man" and the "black man". In Vietnam, it is the turn of the "black man" and the "white man" to be pitted against the "yellow man".
In the song "Three-Five-Zero-Zero" (Claude's draft card number), Ragni and Rado convey the stark reality of the Vietnam War. Focusing on the capture of poorly armed and often barefooted Vietnamese liberation fighters by the better armed, but nonetheless scared US draftees, the song describes combatants "ripped open by metal explosions" in "this dirty little war".
Atkins' production of Hair is timely. With Washington's latest offensive against the Third World reaching a bloody peak, Atkins has adapted his production of Hair to address the war on Iraq. Using a screen which engulfs the back of the stage (which is in the shape of a huge peace symbol), Atkins flashes up images which not only reflect what is happening in the theatre but also what is happening in the world outside.
These include stunning images of the February 16 Sydney anti-war protest, which was attended by 500,000 people, as well as images of John Howard and George Bush superimposed upon the US flag, alongside similar flags bearing the images of Vietnam War-era US presidents Kennedy, Nixon and Johnson. Atkins' production demonstrates that Hair's anti-war message is still relevant.
One of the most powerful moments in the play is echoed on screen with images of maimed and dying US soldiers and Vietnamese fighters, the "4U slogan" — "We are the unwilling, led by the unqualified, to do the unnecessary for the ungrateful". The 4U slogan was adopted by many US conscripts to express their opposition to the war. As the anti-war movement began to grow, many US conscripts began to wear the slogan in solidarity with the student protests taking place at home. The slogan gained public currency when a photograph appeared of it painted on a US airforce base in Vietnam.
For many people born after the end of the Vietnam War, the picture they have of the 1960s and the anti-war movement is one which is dominated by hippies, flower children and the 1969 Woodstock rock festival. The counter-culture has for many become the essence of the 1960s, rather than the powerful worldwide mass anti-war movement. This is because counter-culture, which was the cultural expression of the Vietnam anti-war movement, has been co-opted by capitalism to try and dull the collective memory of the resounding political message of the day, that "We the people, have the power".
For many politicians today, including members of the federal Coalition government who attended the opening night of Atkins' Hair, the play merely portrays the "feel-good times" of the '60s.
However, its political message, now as then, is still strong and forceful. Go and see Hair because it is enjoyable, but also because it will make you feel angry and inspired enough to take its anti-war message with you the next time you protest against Bush's and Howard's never-ending "war on terrorism".
From 91×ÔÅÄÂÛ̳ Weekly, April 23, 2003.
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